A Love Worthy of Songs
by BrienneofThrace
Summary: Headed North after being rescued from the Vale by a thoroughly unexpected group of people, Sansa Stark finds herself becoming quite the Jaime/Brienne shipper. As they travel, it becomes increasingly apparent that if Sansa does not interfere, the clueless fools will never get their act together and admit how they feel. A Jaime/Brienne romance told from Sansa's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

Sansa heaves a heavy sigh as she listens to the latest stream of bickering from her travel companions. Resigned to the fact that they will not be going anywhere for a while, she sits down on a large boulder and shaking her head.

"You are _the_ most stubborn wench I've ever had the misfortune to meet!"

"I'm not being _stubborn_, Lannister, I am being _practical_. It stands to reason that if one bridge is burnt, the next bridge down may very well be. I do not wish to add miles to our journey on a futile quest. Besides, the nearest _alleged_ bridge is in a village rumored to be lawless and dangerous! I will not bring Sansa _near_ such a place."

Jaime and Brienne are both standing at the bank of a large river scowling at each other as they attempt to deal with the latest of many obstacles they've encountered on the journey North.

"And your plan is better, is it?" spits the Kingslayer scornfully. "With the recent thaw, finding a place shallow enough to cross within a hundred leagues would be as likely as Stannis Baratheon opening a brothel and giving free mead to everyone."

Jaime looks rather triumphant at his analogy, but Brienne opens her mouth to speak again. Groaning, Jaime cuts her off before she can even get started on a counterpoint.

"Though if you _are_ thick enough to attempt it and sink to the bottom in all that armor of yours, we'll be rid of your pig-headed stubbornness and free to make sensible decisions for once. There's a thought!" Jaime says, dramatically allowing his features to light up as though he's had a wondrous epiphany. "Perhaps we _should_ go with your plan, after all, wen-"

With a garbled noise of exasperated rage, Brienne brings up a large hand to shove him hard in the chest. Jaime, basking in the glory of what he probably thought was a hilarious retort, is caught off guard.

He stumbles backwards and trips over a tree root, falling gracelessly on his rear end.

Brienne, towering over him, looks more smug than Sansa has ever seen her.

Trying not to laugh out loud, Sansa looks around the clearing until her eyes find the rest of their party.

Ser Hyle, standing by their horses, gives a derisive snort before rolling his eyes and taking a swig from his wineskin.

Podrick Payne, who had grown tired of their arguing minutes before, had wandered downstream a bit.

Glancing down the bank, Sansa can see him attempting to skip rocks across the river. The water is moving a bit too fast, however and there isn't much skipping actually occurring.

Still, Pod seems to be of the opinion that failing at skipping stones is a preferable alternative to listening to yet another Jaime-Brienne row, and Sansa cannot blame him.

Shaking her head, amused and annoyed all at once, Sansa reaches into her bag.

She pulls out the red and blue yarn she has been knitting into a scarf for Brienne and sets to work on it as the argument rages on. Jaime is still sitting in the dirt where he fell and Brienne has made no move to help him up.

"Oh,_ very_ mature, my lady," Jaime scowls, getting to his feet and brushing off some dirt from his trousers. "Tell me, are_ all_ the ladies of the Sapphire Isle so well-trained in the arts of courtesy or are you just an exceptional case?"

"I have manners enough for those that deserve them, _Ser_. Unfortunately, _you_ could provoke even the gentlest fawn in the forest to anger," Brienne says flatly, not looking remotely apologetic for knocking him on his arse.

Jaime guffaws quite a bit at that, "You think of yourself as a '_gentle fawn_', do you, wench? You've got to be the biggest bloody fawn I ever saw-"

Brienne rips at her straggly blonde hair in frustration, "No,_ idiot_, I was just trying to s- stop changing the subject! The river. I stand by what I said. The best course of action is to-"

Sansa decides this is a good point to stop listening.

If the past few moons spent in their company are any indication, this bickering is liable to go on for quite some time. Eventually, they'll come to some sort of compromise that doesn't really please either of them and the party will be free to move on.

Then Jaime and Brienne will glare daggers at each other for a few hours before forgetting all about it, perhaps even being friendly towards each other for a few hours- until the next inevitable disagreement comes around and the cycle begins all over again.

Hyle Hunt catches Sansa's eye and he gives an even more exaggerated eye roll than the one before. She smiles sympathetically and turns away, seeing him take another long swig from his wine flask before she does.

Hyle had once confessed to her that he sometimes plays a drinking game with himself, where he takes a drink every time the words _"wench" "kingslayer"_ and _"stubborn"_ are used in an argument between Jaime and Brienne.

There are other words and rules to it, though she cannot remember them all. He drains his drink if physical blows are exchanged. She wonders if Brienne's shove counted and glances over to see one flask abandoned at his feet.

By the sound of things, he'll be cross-eyed and stumbling by the time Jaime and Brienne are through with their debate.

They really are _quite_ ridiculous, Sansa thinks, knitting at a steady pace and trying to watch the birds flitting through the trees rather than her arguing companions.

It's unbelievable.

They are _such_ a pair of overgrown children. Petty, immature and repetitive. Worse than Arya and Bran had ever been.

It really grates on the nerves, and judging by Hyle and Pod's reactions, she is not alone in thinking so.

It's nearly enough to make Sansa wish she was back in the Va-

_Well, no._

It is definitely not _quite_ that bad. She is overwhelmingly grateful for the rescue. She can still hardly get her head around the fact that she is headed _home_.

The headaches from their spats are a very small price to pay to be headed North again.

In fact, there are times when their bickering is rather _sweet_.

Sansa had long ago come to the -initially shocking- realization that this pair, so very mismatched and belligerent on the surface, actually have an_extraordinarily_ deep affection for one another, even if neither would dare to openly admit it.

There is this incredible _trust_ between them that had been quite startling to Sansa at first.

After spending so much time in a world where no one trusted anyone, where backstabbing and corruption were a daily part of life, it had been such an unfamiliar and pleasant surprise to realize how deep their bond went.

They may come close to throttling each other at least once day, but Brienne trusts Jaime with her life and he trusts Brienne with his.

More often than not, Sansa feels, their incessant bickering is just an expression of the held-in feelings they are both struggling with.

This, unfortunately, is not one of those times.

This argument lacks the built-up tension Sansa has observed in previous spats between them, which had been full of subtle words and glances that revealed their deep, more-than-friends feelings for each other went.

(Revealed to Sansa, an least. She is quite certain that they were both entirely oblivious to the fact that their feelings are reciprocated. In fact, sometimes they act like such fools that she's not even sure they realize their _own_ feelings).

However, there is no fiercely hidden adoration beneath this "_how to cross the river_" argument.

Right now, they are just _angry_.

Sitting on her boulder, Sansa considers how strange it is, that she should be _here_ in the wilds with this motley group of people:

A brave, kind giant of a woman who had risked everything to fulfil a promise to Sansa's mother, even after Catelyn's death.

The stammering young squire of Tyrion Lannister who now follows Brienne with utmost loyalty and devotion.

A hedge knight with a crude sense of humor who had once served Randyll Tarly and

was here for reasons she still did not really understand.

And _Jaime Lannister_, who had killed her father's men and was brother to the woman who wanted Sansa dead more than anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms.

Stranger still, that she is _happy_ with them.

Sansa would not have expected it- would not have _dreamed_ it, that first day they'd sprung her from the Vale, but this odd collection of people have been the closest thing she's had to a family since the day Joffrey demanded her father's head and her entire world had come crumbling down.

Though the dangers on the road are plentiful, she feels safer now than she has in many years, and though they press further North, into ever-deepening snows, she feels warmer with each passing day.

As the scent of Northern pines strengthens each day and the chill of the winter winds enters her bones, it is becoming harder recall her life as a prisoner in King's Landing and the Vale. She is so very thankful for that.

But it _had_ been real. It had all been real and terrible and she'd still be there, if not for these four people who had all been strangers or near-strangers to her not long ago.

A quick glance at Jaime and Brienne shows her that they are still shouting insults at each other, so Sansa allows herself to slip inside her head, thinking back to the day they'd rescued her and she began her arduous journey_ home_.


	2. Chapter 2

So, this starts off with a flash back and then returns to the opening scene by the river.

There will be a few flashbacks in the coming chapters as I fill in the blanks between Sansa's rescue and where they are now, but eventually it will be all present tense.

The day they came for her, Sansa had awoken in the dead of the night to Brienne standing in her chambers, shaking her gently awake. She'd been very confused, roused from a deep sleep and a pleasant dream of Winterfell that filled her with deep longing.

She'd thought, at first, that Brienne was some sort of servant, but realized, as she blinked herself into consciousness, that she'd never seen such a tall or broad chambermaid at the Vale... and none of them ever dressed in _armor._

"Lady Sansa," Brienne had breathed, her voice just above a whisper. "I am sorry to wake you, my lady, but-" she looked wildly around the room. "There isn't much time."

She dropped to one knee, head bowed and said "My name is Brienne of Tarth. I served your mother, Lady Catelyn. She charged me with the task of returning you home. Though Lady Stark is no longer with us, but I intend to keep my vow. My steel is sharp and my arm is strong. I will use them to see that you reach the North safely, if you will come."

Sansa could do little but ogle at her.

_I am dreaming,_ she'd thought.

_Though if it is a dream, why would the gods not even be kind enough to send me a handsome gleaming knight as my rescuer... instead of this homely woman, who despite her large frame, seems barely more than a girl herself?_

"I don't understand," Sansa had said, rubbing her eyes.

"I know, my lady, and I - I wish there were time to explain. A woman called Mya Stone helped get me in here and she swears to lead us down from the Eyrie through safe paths. But we must be well away by morning if we are to have any hope of a real escape," Brienne hesitated, biting her lip. "You do...you do want to escape, my lady?"

"I...I..." Sasna had stammered, staring into Brienne's large blue eyes. They looked so very wide and honest, and her words were full of such sincerity, but Sansa's trust had been shattered so many times...it would be beyond foolish, wouldn't it, to take off into the night with some stranger?

Lord Petyr would be so furious, if he were to catch her...how could she even be considering...

"My lady, I swear to you. No harm will come to you while I draw breath. Please, please come with me, Sansa," Brienne pleaded, her blue eyes swimming with tears.

And so Sansa did.

She took just a moment to gather her things while Brienne paced nervously about the room, poking her head out the door every time she came around to it again.

When Sansa entered the hall, dressed in layers of clothing, a small bag on her back, she'd met Hyle Hunt, who was standing guard. He bowed briskly to her and turned to Brienne, saying, "Let's go. Thought I heard something down the passage."

They'd weaved their way through halls and passages Sansa had not known existed, meeting Mya around a corner and following her out, swiftly and silently.

Sansa's heart was pounding so hard that it threatened to burst out of her chest, but seeing Mya put her a bit more at ease. Mya would not lead her to harm.

When they burst into the frigid night air and began their descent, Sansa, who had still been rather dazed after being pulled from a deep sleep, woke up entirely and began to contemplate the magnitude of what was happening to her.

She was free. Free of Lord Petyr, and his increasingly overt advances, free of the pain of witnessing little Sweetrobin fade away, and, if Brienne spoke truly, free to return to the North.

They began their descent.

Sansa lost her footing multiple times, but Brienne was always right at her side to catch her, with strong and surprisingly gentle hands. Not long after they'd begun, Hyle gave a low, hooting call, which was answered a moment later.

Then, two figures had emerged from behind a wall of rock, and Sansa's stomach plummeted as though she'd been thrown from a sky cell.

It took her a moment to recognize their faces in the low moonlight, but when she did, panic overcame her.

Jaime Lannister. And Tyrion's squire.

Lannisters. Here.

_You fool, Sansa. You wretched, ignorant fool._

They'd come to take her back. Back to Cersei and the stifling Red Keep, to answer for a crime she hadn't committed. And she'd come_willingly_. They hadn't needed to drag her from her bed. She'd followed like the stupid little girl she'd thought was long dead. She'd thought her trials had made her wiser and sharper, but she was still just that gullible fool who'd trusted the people responsible for her father's death.

Self-loathing mixed with her terror, and she turned on her heel to flee. A part of her recognized it was futile to even try to escape. Perhaps she'd fall off the cliffs in the attempt. Better than facing the wrath of Cersei Lannister. Better and quicker.

"Sansa, wait," Brienne had called desperately, but she ignored it, darting around rocks in the blinding darkness.

She could hear Brienne's heavy footsteps following, but did not stop until she tripped and slammed her knee into the jagged rocks. Pain shot through it, tearing through the layers of cloth and breaking her skin.

"Sansa, please," Brienne had cried, falling to her knees beside her. "I'm sorry. Please. I should have warned you. I was... I was so worried about being caught, I didn't think to... Oh, and you're hurt," she said, reaching towards Sansa's bleeding leg, which Sansa snatched away, overcome with terror.

Brienne flinched.

Brienne looked so distressed, Sansa was moved by pity for an instant, before growing furious with herself once again. _You soft-hearted fool. You stupid little girl._

But somehow, Brienne managed to convince her not to run. She'd stammered out her explanations...that Jaime too had sworn a vow to Sansa's Lady Mother, that he had given her a sword and bid her keep Sansa safe from his sister, that he was here now, to see it through, to help her reach safety.

Sansa was more than doubtful and her heart was still pounding like a cornered rabbing, but her knee was also throbbing so badly she thought she'd likely have trouble walking, let alone running.

And where would she even go? Back to the Eyrie, to beg Lord Petyr's forgiveness? Into the hills, to face the brutality of the hill tribes?

She had learned long ago to never trust a Lannister. During her captivity in King's Landing, she'd learned it over and over again, in increasingly painful ways.

But she could not help but trust this Brienne. She looked nothing like the heroic knights in the tales Sansa had grown up loving so much, but Sansa sensed this poor, ugly maid with her scarred cheek and bright eyes was more honorable and noble than any of the knights Sansa had encountered since she'd journied south.

In spite of her vows never to trust again, she could not help but believe in Brienne, who had wet some fabric with cold water and was gently cleaning Sansa's knee while pleading with her to understand that they meant her no harm.

_Perhaps_, Sansa thought, _Brienne has been fooled by the Lannisters just as I was. She may be true, but there's no reason to believe her companions are. _

She is good hearted, and strong, even if she is blinded to the truth. She will keep me safe, Sansa thought. Jaime Lannister no longer has a sword-hand, if what Littlefinger had told her was true, and that other knight did not look half so fierce as Brienne. And Pod is just a boy.

Sansa was sure Brienne could take them, if it came to that.

So Sansa agreed to journey on with them, as there really had not been another choice. She returned to the group, determinedly avoiding Jaime Lannister's eyes and vowing that when she got a chance to speak with Brienne alone, she would tell her the truth about the treachery of House Lannister.

_Present_

After quite some time, Sansa looks up from her knitting to find that Jaime and Brienne have finally come to an agreement.

While it will take them a long time and a number of furious words, they have determined that felling a few trees and building a makeshift bridge of their own would be less risky and more efficient than seeking another bridge downstream, which could very well be destroyed as well, or wasting time looking for a shallow place to cross.

They are both glaring daggers at each other, neither one really happy with the compromise.

Jaime and Brienne both march over to Hyle who has been steadily drinking through their lengthy argument.

"On your feet, Hunt. Help us haul this tree down to the bank. Then we'll do a quick search for any other logs of suitable size before cutting down whatever live trees we might need," Jaime says sharply, nudging him with his boot.

Hyle scowls a little at the command, but gets to his feet. Rather unsteadily, Sansa notices.

Brienne has too. She gives Hyle a judgmental look before bending to pick up her end of the tree's thick trunk.

"Sansa," she says kindly. "Would you mind cutting some lengths of rope for us? About this long?" Brienne holds her arms wide to demonstrate the desired length, as Pod shuffles over to help lift the log.

"Of course," Sansa says, a genuine smile on her face.

Brienne, sensitive and kind-hearted soul that she is, is well aware of Sansa's desire to contribute to the group whenever possible, even if physical labor is not her forte. Sansa too gets to her feet and heads over to the saddlebags to find their coil of rope.

She gets to work, chuckling as Brienne and the boys bring their logs down to the river.

"Jaime! That was my foot," Brienne scolds when they reach the bank and drop it, and Sansa sees her hopping on one foot down by the river, a massive spruce tree on the ground beside her.

"It wasn't me, wench! It was your boy Pod here who dro-!" Jaime said defensively.

"Oh, that's _very_ valiant of you, Jaime. Blaming the _twelve-year- old boy_," Brienne said with a scoff.

"I'm-I'm thirteen, m'lady," Pod chirped softly.

"Aye. Thirteen and strapping!" Jaime said, clapping Pod on the shoulder. "_I_, on the other hand, am a bloody_ cripple_, if you haven't noticed, so perhaps you can forgive me for troubling those _dainty_ little feet of yours, my lady," he says with a mocking bow.

"Can we just get this _over_ with? Sometime before dark would be nice," Hyle asks in annoyance, hiccupping every few words. But his pleas are drowned out by a retort from Brienne.

Sansa can only laugh. She thinks back to those early days, when her affection for Brienne was growing enormously with every passing hour in her company, and every insult Jaime threw the sweet maiden's way solidified Sansa's hatred of Lannisters.

How blind she'd been, and how pleasant it had been, to slowly discover the truth that bubbled beneath their arguments and his insults...

Notes:

:D

Thanks for reading. I love reviews like Sansa loves lemon cakes!

Very much open to all feedback...con-crit, suggestions etc!


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